Scripted To Die
by Anxnymous
Summary: Arthur Kirkland starts his first year at the famous witchcraft and wizarding school; Hogwarts. Expecting everything but the famous Harry Potter in his year and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named breaking into Hogwarts, Arthur might have signed up for something more than what he had bargained for... Original Character included.
1. Act 1:Encounters on the Hogwarts Express

**Author's Note:**** I found out that FanFiction was being a tad annoying and made everything Italic. For some, this hurts their eyes, and I apologize. I've changed it, so I hope that your eyes shall be spared! The italics are usually flashbacks or thought; you're smart enough to figure it out. Also, is being all weird about tabs (which I put every new paragraph) so please bear with it! Please review at the end, I would really appreciate it!**

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**- ****Prologue ****-**

_"You freed the house elf, didn't you?"_

_"Father, I-"_

_"Did you or did you not, Arthur?" His voice, level and calm, but I could hear the surfacing snarl._

_"…I did."_

_A blunt pain stung my cheek, and I found myself lost for words. I promised myself I would have stood up to him, but what's happening now? Nothing. I'm being a compliant child again._

_"First the Mudblood, then this; what went wrong?!" he yelled._

_What went wrong? Father was talking about me, how I, as a child of two pureblood, former Slytherin wizards, went… anti-pureblood._

_"Don't be too harsh on him, Scorpio. He probably didn't know that," cried my mother, fear creeping into her voice._

_"I knew," I said quietly. There, my so-called defiance. My mother stared at me, stunned, eyes pleading for me to take it back. "I knew," I repeated, louder, more confident._

_Father stared at me, cruel eyes regarding me. Then, his hand rose and I flinched instinctively. But as it went down, it went not against my cringing features, and instead to slice through the air._

_"Miscreant!" he commanded, and instantly, a small, hunched figure shuffled towards Father, before bowing deeply._

_"What has Master called me for? Miscreant will –"he began, a squeaked when polished shoe came kicking its way. "—happily oblige!" Throwing itself at the man's feet, it stayed there, shivering in fear._

_Ignoring it, Father turned to me. "It seems like it wasn't enough for me to generously take you in. I thought the untainted blood in you would do, but it seems your own... ideals will cause friction in this household." Pointing at the cowering house elf at his feet, Father continued. "I know you and this servant are close, as revolting as it is. One more rebellious act and this house-elf will suffer. Don't believe me?" hissed Father, black hair dishevelled. "Crucio!"_

_Tortured screams and pleads came from the clawing mass of rags on the floor; Miscreant's. I mouthed wordlessly, my protest dying in my throat. _Stop, say it, say it_, I shouted inwardly to myself._

_"Stop," I whispered hoarsely, contrary to the blood pounding in my ears. The screams died down to a whimper. My father turned his head up, pupils unfocused._

_"Promise me, you will act accordingly as to the honour of the bloodline and Slytherin," he demanded._

_I hesitated and my father panicked; he pointed his wand back at Miscreant. "Promise!" he screamed. Mother held back sobs, silent tears running down her face._

_"I promise."_

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**- ****Act One: Encounters on the Hogwarts Express**** -**

The sliding of the door caused Arthur Kirkland to break his gaze from the window; there was no point anyways. Father and Mother would not want to dither around Mudbloods and Muggles. Many families filled the platform for the Hogwarts Express, fussing over to-be first-years or berating troublesome seniors; but not Arthur's.

A brown-haired boy had stuck his head inside the compartment through a small gap; green eyes examining the space. His gaze fell upon me, and his features contorting into a look of disgust.

"Ugh, no space here, amigos," he commented, with notable Spanish accent, slamming the door shut, despite the three spaces left unoccupied by the blonde. This left Arthur with a lingering annoyance, glaring at the shut screen. A few seconds later, Arthur saw a blonde, wavy haired boy talking beyond the transparent door, before the boy slid open the door, berating an unseen fuming friend.

"—words must have more love in it. You're never going to pick up girls – oh hello," he said, looking at Arthur. A nerve twitched somewhere inside him; this French accent ticked him off for some reason.

"Get out," Arthur managed to mutter, turning back to the window. Ignoring him, the boy sat opposite Arthur calling out to 'Gilbert and Antonio' to come join him. A grinning albino and the unhappy brunette from before came in, the brunette half-dragged here.

"Kesesese, I'm the one and only awesome—" began the albino, pointing to himself with his thumb. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, your master and overlord! Heheheh!" He sat down beside me, murmuring the word 'awesome' again and again under his voice to a tune.

"Please don't," Arthur mumbled, scooting closer to the window, wanting to distance himself from them. He felt a glare from a pair of emerald eyes; who Arthur deduced, was Antonio.

"Look, if you don't like me, just go away and do us both a favour," he announced into the air, hoping the brunette would get the message. With a slight jolt and rumble, Arthur noted the Hogwarts Express has started its journey to its iconic destination.

"Oh, I wonder why I don't like you, bushy brows," snarled Antonio, "Especially when you tried to hex me with a slug-spewing curse!"

"I was trying to hit a hovering fly next to your ear," retorted Arthur airily. The actual fact was that Father had told him to stay away Carriedo family, and Arthur couldn't resist a shot at the boy.

"You were trying to make a fly spew slugs?!"  
"Awesome!"  
"That will not have been beautiful."

Their comments were cut short as the door slid open again, and another student stood there, luggage levitating behind her. Jet-black bangs covered most of her face, leaving out her mouth and nose. She grunted and apologized under her breath and turned to walk away when the blonde boy invited her in.

"There's always space beside me for a pretty girl, mon chéri," he flirted, patting the space beside him. The girl stopped, considered, and tucked her bags into a provided space, taking the offered spot.

"J'apprécie votre offre, mais comme je ne suis pas votre 'chéri', ne le prends pas comme que je vais permettre à vos mains lubriques sur moi," she spoke, flawless French accent in her voice. The blonde suddenly paled and laughed nervously, apparently figuring out what she had said.

"Of course not, mon chéri -er- I mean, miss. I am not that type of person," he replied to her French; the colour on his face did not return yet. The Spaniard had also paled, apparently well-versed enough in French to understand the gist of what the girl had said. Gilbert just sat humming, oblivious to his spooked friends.

"Excuse the pervert, young lady. My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am proud to say the French student is no acquaintance of mine," Arthur began, unperturbed by the unusual start. The girl hesitated, eyes hidden behind the long, black bangs, and then nodded. The apartment fell silent except for a slightly off tune humming of the albino and the sounds of the train.

"Well if we're making introductions, I am Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Pleased to meet you," Antonio said the venom in his voice from before gone. Now you would believe him as a farmer's boy from a far-off countryside, nice and unconsciously flirtatious by nature. He offered a tomato to the girl; God knows where he got that from.

"Ah!" said the blonde, jolted out of his daze. "I am Francis Bonnefoy, and fate must've brought you to me. No mere coincidence could deliver such a beautiful mistress as you." An elbow to the ribs was what he got from Antonio, who had not yet forgotten the warning the girl had said.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, at your service," the white-haired boy finished with an over-exaggerated flourish with his hand. He ignored Arthur's quip of "I thought you were overlord and master", and leaned forward to the girl's direction. "What's your name?"

Silence followed for a few seconds. Maybe the girl didn't know it was directed at her? Gilbert was about to repeat the question when a cry sounded in the corridor. "What was that?" Antonio asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry and curiosity.

"You do know that the famous Harry Potter is just in the apartment next to us, right? Along with the _infamous_ Weasley twins and the rest of their siblings, of course," replied the girl, rapping her knuckles on the wall behind her.

The trio stood up quickly, fighting for the first entrance through the door, shouting, "The-Boy-Who-Lived? You don't say?" and "Maybe I'll see his scar! They say it's in the shape of a lightning bolt; awesome!" A wild scramble marked their exit, along with more footsteps towards the direction they headed too. It was now just the girl and Arthur in the compartment, with the rattle and rumble of the Hogwarts Express on its way.

"Not going to see the famous exhibit?" asked Arthur, smirk playing on his lips.

"Please, I'll see the boy at Hogwarts; I'll have the whole seven years to goggle at him, if he lives that long," replied the girl, turning her view to the passing countryside. The din loudened as Harry Potter was probably being grilled by the questions of You-Know-Who and his experience.

Ten years ago, You-Know-Who ((Voldemort)), a cruel Dark Wizard, had attempted to kill the Potters, a wizarding family. He would've succeeded if his own Killing Curse had not rebounded back and left him next to nothing and powerless. The Dark Lord fled, leaving a small year-old boy orphaned, named Harry Potter, with a lightning bolt scar to remind him of the fateful night. No-one knows why countless well-known wizards have fallen to the Dark Lord and not a small baby boy. That's what made Harry Potter so famous.

"You have superb French," remarked Arthur in an attempt to start a conversation.

"Thank you," said the girl, eyes still observing the shifting landscape. "I learnt from Google Translate."

"I'm afraid I don't know what this 'Google Translate' is," informed Arthur, thick eyebrows quizzically knotted together.

"Never mind," muttered the girl. She took her gaze from the window and took out a book.

"The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection- by Quentin Trimble?" asked Arthur, reading the title of the book. "That was on the book list wasn't it?"

The girl nodded. Silence again. Arthur sighed. "I'm afraid we got off the wrong foot, thanks to Francis. I'm Kirkland, Arthur Kirkland, nice to meet you. You are?" Arthur held his hand out, looking at the girl expectantly. She smirked, as if Arthur confirmed some type of suspicion.

"Well, _I'm_ afraid, you wouldn't want to shake my hand, _pureblood_."

Arthur was taken aback, and immediately drew back his hand. The girl had somehow known he was a pureblood; Arthur wasn't sure whether he should be proud or suspicious. He had immediately assumed that she was a pureblood too, given that she had rejected Francis right off the bat. Suddenly, the girl in front of him seemed to carry something fatally contagious. "Are you a Mudblood?" he managed to get out.

Mudbloods were Muggle-born witches or wizards, with no wizarding ancestry. Being a pureblood, Arthur found this highly… upsetting.

"Something of the sort; maybe worse, depending on who you are," she brushed off.

"Are you ever going to answer my question fully?" asked Arthur indignantly. After waiting for a non-existent answer, he continued talking, determined. "You're going to make this trip mighty awkward, young lady." She turned back to her book, putting on a concentrated face.

"You're the only one making it awkward. No-one asked you to open that huge flap of a mouth, bush-brows."

Ouch, that bush-brows comment sure packed a blow for Arthur's already injured pride. In any normal circumstance, Arthur would have stormed out of the compartment, but this girl intrigued him, with her half-answers and mysterious nature. For now, Arthur did not care if she was a Mudblood or anything; he just wanted answers.

"At least give me a name or something of the sort to call you by," he whined. The girl looked up from her book, and behind those bangs, Arthur sensed a calculating stare from under them. Suddenly, he got the insane urge to take back the statement and jump out the train window.

The eye-contact fell back to her book. "Shadow," she said. The suicidal urge disappeared.

"What?"

"Shadow. That's what you can call me."

"Is that your first name or last name?"

"Neither and both."

Arthur finally plugged the questions, and carefully sorted out the cryptically-given information 'Shadow' had given him. A rattling sound came, and soon, smiling lady with a trolley knocked onto our screen. Sliding open the screen, Arthur politely greeted her.

"Hello, dears, anything from the trolley? Oh, another bunch of first-years, or –er—a pair of them anyways. Was I interrupting something?" she said, glancing from Arthur to Shadow. Arthur flushed underneath his golden hair, while Shadow just stared at the trolley.

"I'm sorry," she began, pointing to a package labelled '_Chocolate Frogs', _"but I think that just moved. It's not really a frog, is it?" The trolley lady chuckled in reply, handing Shadow one.

"Of course not! Here's a sample, my treat! Anything else?" she replied, looking brightly at Arthur. Browsing through the products, he picked a few and paid the right amount of Knuts and Sickles.

"Don't you want to buy anything?" asked Arthur, staring at Shadow. The girl shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his look. "Let me guess, don't have any money?"

"It's not that!" she snapped, then blinked. "I-I just –" Her voice trailed off, hands drifting to a small bulge in her pockets. The trolley lady seemed content with watching this little drama unfold.

"Just what?" demanded Arthur.

"I might not know how to use the wizard currency," muttered Shadow. A small 'ha' escaped Arthur's mouth before he could stop it; behaviour that just isn't right for a pureblood. Coughing he held out his hand.

"Hand me the money," he said. Noting the suspicious glance from Shadow, he rolled his eyes. "No pureblood in their right mind would steal _money_ and keep it." Feeling the added weight in his hands, accompanied by a small jingle, Arthur gestured to the trolley. "What every intrigues you, take it."

Apparently everything intrigued her, and she bought a bit of everything. With a 'ta', the trolley lady left, leaving Arthur to explain the system of Knuts, Sickles and Galleons to a, for-once, interested Shadow. Sitting beside Shadow, he held out three different tokens. "These little bronze ones," began Arthur, pointing to the smallest of the tokens, "—are Knuts. They are worth the least out of both of them. The next ones," he continued, pointing to the medium-sized silver ones, "—are Sickles. They're worth twenty-nine Knuts to one Sickle. Now these ones," he said to a nodding Shadow, pointing to the big, golden coins, "—are called Galleons. They're worth more than both Knuts and Sickles; seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. That's like," he explained, putting on a thoughtful look. "A lot of Knuts," he finished.

"Four-hundred and ninety three Knuts," muttered Shadow.

"I knew that," he said quickly. He didn't want anyone lower than a pureblood knowing he was a little slow on Arithmancy. A sliding of packaging followed by a cry of surprise came from Shadow, as a Chocolate Frog leaped from its pentagonal prison.

"I-It's alive," she stuttered. _Looks like her calm and witty demeanour was slowly failing her in the wizarding world_, thought Arthur. He decided to take advantage of that.

"Yeah, and so is your first of your card collection," Arthur smirked, pointing to the half-hidden card in the package. Curious, Shadow picked the card up gingerly, as if that was about to leap out of her hands too. "Albus Dumbledore," he observed, leaning over. "You know him right? Definitely." A stormy expression surfaced Shadow's features, eyes hidden by her bangs.

"He's moving too," muttered Shadow. Arthur nodded and was surprised when she ripped it. "Just like the real one," she spat.

_This girl has an agenda with one of the most powerful wizards in history,_ thought Arthur, a little scared.

"Do you have something against Dumbledore?" he asked. He took the murderous aura directed at the paper shreds as a 'yes'. Shadow tore another Chocolate Frog out of its package and started by nibbling it. A little contentment returned to her face, shown bit the perking of her mouth. "Try this," Arthur said, taking a little joy out of watching the girl's face lighten up at the taste of a Pumpkin Pasty.

"That taste pretty good!" she remarked, "Pumpkin." Laughing, Arthur held out another package.

"If you like those, you gotta try these!" he exclaimed, opening the package.

"Hey, I never said you could open those," muttered Shadow, but curiously staring at the package. Arthur popped one in his mouth and made a face.

"Soap!" he cried out in disgust, scraping his tongue with his teeth. Shadow chewed on one and swallowed.

"I just got blueberry," she said, sticking her tongue out (which was slightly blue). Arthur put on a mock-frustrated face.

"Dare you to try another one!"

There was a small pause as they waited; then a gag and coughing from Shadow. "What the—? It's like… blood? What is this stuff?"

"Berty Bott's Every Flavour Beans!" crowed Arthur.

"Every flavour? You've got to be joking!"

"Was the blood flavoured one and the soap one not enough for you as proof? Come on, another round!"

"It's your turn; those things are straight from the devil!"

The door slid open again to reveal a short-ish, pudgy boy who sniffled a few times, asking about a toad. Unfortunately, neither Shadow nor Arthur had seen this toad, and the boy dejectedly closed the door.

Unexpected bouts of laughter came from the odd pair; enjoying their journey on the Hogwarts Express. They hadn't yet noticed, the trio of boys from before hadn't returned yet.

"Who knew that Caterpillar Brow could lighten up, eh?" whispered Antonio, peeking into the compartment. Two more pairs of coloured irises observed the happenings inside the compartment.

"She's really something, huh?" asked Francis, watching as Shadow flicked a jellybean at Arthur.

"Don't go falling for her now, Francis. Remember what she said to you before, whatever she said to you," reminded Gilbert, even though he too, was curious of the girl. Francis was about to comment about her harmonizing 'inner and outer beauty', when a few pair of footsteps were heard.

"Get out of the way, you peasants," snapped a voice from behind them. A silvery-blonde boy stood with two hulks, obviously annoyed at something. The trio made way for the other trio, pulling faces at their backs when the silver-haired one stalked off.

"Nasty boy. Draco Malfoy was his name, no?" asked Francis.

"Yeah, why?" replied Antonio, glancing at Gilbert.

"A Slytherin that one; through and through."


	2. Act 2: Familiar Features

**Author's**** Note:**** The second chapter makes it out! This one is relatively shorter than the first one, but pay attention the the lines of canon Hogwarts characters! If any of you can tell me what's happening with the canon characters, I'll allow you to message me a word I have to put in the next chapter (nothing inappropriate mind you)! Hint: A copy of the 'Harry Potter and Philosopher's Stone' beside you will be helpful... Enjoy and don't forget to FAVORITE, REVIEW and FOLLOW!**

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**- Act Two: Familiar Features -**

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years, over here! You alright there, Harry?"

A huge man towered over the rushing crowd of exiting students; the Hogwarts Express had arrived safely. A huge smile was plastered on his face as a black-haired boy grinned at him, waving a little.

It was a miracle in itself to be able to see the man's mouth, as it was basically lost in the mad tangled bush of a beard and moustache. His beetle-like eyes sparkled amidst his furry eyebrows (which was something Arthur could relate to of course). Skins and furs of different animals, mythical and normal alike were draped across and over his broad shoulders, and Arthur couldn't say much about his choice of clothes; some creature had probably been skinned for his vest.

"C'mon, follow me – any more firs'- years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'- years, follow me!"

Down a narrow path they went, with a few curses and mutters from the students as they slipped or fumbled in the darkness. "Yeh'll get yer first sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," called the burly man somewhere in the stifling darkness, "jus' round the bend here.'

As promised, the path opened up onto vast expanse, which on closer inspection, shimmered and rippled at the edges; a great, black lake. Casting his wide eyes upwards, Arthur marvelled at the size of the castle that seemed to judge the surrounding landscape; Hogwarts. Loud 'ooh's could be heard and whispers of nervousness and excitement began to sound. The twinkling of the lights that illuminated the small squares of windows seemed to beckon them, and the turrets and towers grew out of the main body like ancient cone-topped trees.

"No more'n four to a boat!" called the big man, pointing to the many small rowboats floating at the edge of the lake.

They all got into little rowboats with three other students. Arthur couldn't help searching for a certain black-haired girl, who told him: 'I'll see you soon' several minutes ago. Sitting with a brown-haired girl and a white blonde girl, a brunet came to join them too. Vainly looking out for her black hair in the dark, Arthur turned back to set his eyes on Hogwarts.

"Everyone in?" a booming voice rang. It was the big man, who had a whole boat to himself. "Right then –FORWARD!"

The boats drifted silently towards an invisible shore, ripples in its wake. "Heads down!" the same voice shouted as we neared a cliff. The boats went towards a thick covering of ivy, parting as the boats glided through them, and into an opening in the cliff. Reaching an underground harbour of sorts, a small bump notified the boats' occupants of its arrival, where everyone climbed out of their boats. Footsteps grated on pebbles and stones.

A buzz of conversation started, as they followed the flickering lamplight Hagrid (the big man's name Arthur heard) carried.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" he gruffly called out, holding the creature by its leg. It gave a croak, seemingly dazed.

"Trevor!" replied a familiar voice from a pudgy-faced boy.

"Wow, this cavern sure is neat!" exclaimed the girl beside Arthur. "I wonder what Hogwarts will be like?"

Excitement welled up inside of Arthur, which he hid with a small smirk on the outside. Here he was, entering one of the best wizarding schools; Hogwarts, and he, Arthur Kirkland, was to attend it.

_Of course,_ he thought, correcting himself,_ I am a pureblood. I deserve nothing less._ The blonde couldn't help but shiver; words straight from his father' mouth.

Eyes continuing to sift through the crowd, he thought he spotted Shadow's black hair. Running forward, he patted her shoulder, to find himself facing Harry Potter himself.

"Uh, can I help you?" he asked, staring at him with light green eyes. Arthur couldn't help but let his gaze drift to Harry's forehead. Clearing his throat, he took his hand off.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

Glancing at Arthur before being called by a ginger-haired boy, Harry left behind the blonde boy.

_Harry Potter, the boy who defied the Dark Lord when he was just a baby, _pondered Arthur. _He seems… familiar._ Shaking his head, he laughed silently, trotting along with the first-years. There was no way Arthur could've met Harry before; and if he did, Father would have been there, planning on how to kill Harry. After, wouldn't a former Death-Eater want revenge?

Soon, the rocks turned to grass, and a gigantic oak front door stood before them.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Muted nods and the pudgy boy from before squeaked. Hagrid raised a clenched fist and pounded on the door with three resounding knocks.


	3. Act 3: The Sorting Ceremony

**Author's Note: Anxnymous here! Thanks for following the story so far and I appreciate all the favourites or/and follows this is getting! Thanks to those who have favourited or shown faith in this series, I shall continue! Don't forget to leave behind a comment. Enjoy!**

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**- Act Three: The Sorting Ceremony -**

A serious-faced witch wearing emerald-green robes stood at the door way, regarding all the students.

"The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall," announced Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Opening the door wider, Arthur got a peek at the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Huge and old-looking, a warm air rushed out to tickle his face. Crackling braziers hung from the walls, casting light over the old stone that made the castle. The stone walls rose to bear a magnificent roof that was almost too high to see. A grand marble staircase facing them would lead them to the upper floors.

Trailing behind Professor McGonagall, open-mouthed to-be students gaped at the wonders of Hogwarts. Somewhere to his right, Arthur could hear the excited and merry chatter of students, and expected to be led towards the noise. But instead, the strict-faced teacher turned away from the hall and into a small, empty chamber.

The first years clustered together, too nervous to talk, squished together in the relatively small room. _Everything seemed quite small after the Entrance Hall; myself included_, Arthur thought. Looking around in the dim light, he searched for Shadow's face, but came to no avail.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The starting-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, you triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Arthur tried to flatten his unruly blonde hair after her statement, not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of every student and teacher in the school. Professor McGonagall seemed to find every crease and stray strand of hair on each of the students, making them shift uneasily under her stare.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," announced Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left many students fearing for their dignity and pride when they walked up in front of the school, and Arthur's hair-patting went from worrisome to murderously urgent. Then a small tug on his right caused him to jump and turn towards the direction. He glared accusingly at the students on his right, but then heard a 'you look fine' near his left ear. Arthur whipped his head around expecting Shadow, but she wasn't there.

Screams made him jolt in fright, as pale-faced kids stared at something behind him. Collective gasps were heard, and soon Arthur contributed one of them. Milky white ghosts floated several feet of the ground, and unfortunately, through a few students; including Arthur. Right through his head.

Not a pleasant feeling.

Shaking off the unexplainable sensation that he had just dunked his head into ice water, Arthur tuned into what the ghosts were saying. Two ghosts seemed to be disagreeing on a certain subject considering a poltergeist named 'Peeves'.

"—gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost that seemed to be pulled of medieval times (probably was for all Arthur knew) glanced over the wide-eyed first-years.

Silence met his question.

"New students!" beamed the fatter ghost of the two; a Friar of some sort. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

Braver students nodded their heads without a word, eyes still disbelieving.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said fat ghost, still smiling. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. It was McGonagall. She looked a little miffed by something, as her hat was a little tilted and her eyes accusing. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now form a line and follow me."

As the ghosts drifted away, the first-years fumbled to get into a uniform line. Many looked a little pale or sick. Others smiled and grinned in anticipation. Arthur just felt a little bit of both.

Suddenly, the line moved and Arthur robotically walked along with them, stiff with stage-fright. Then, light flooded into his surroundings as the first-years walked through the double doors of the Great Hall.

The room Arthur had just entered was more breath-taking than the Entrance Hall.

Countless candles floated above them, filling the room with light and warmth. Thankfully, they weren't dripping hot wax onto the four tables under them, which were occupied by what seemed like the rest of the school. Shining, golden plates were laid out for each student, with bigger plates and bowls running throughout the centre. Looking over the students was a fifth table at the head of the Great Hall, where the numerous teachers of Hogwarts sat. In the middle was a man with a great long grey beard, tucked under the table; Dumbledore.

Suddenly Arthur remembered Shadow again, and what could have made her hate the wizard smiling upon the students.

Filing into a line so that they faced the students, the first-years suddenly stiffened at the sight of the countless pairs of eyes staring at them. To distract himself, Arthur stared up at the ceiling, a habit of his, and was shocked to see there was no ceiling at all.

No, there was, but it wasn't there at the same time. A consuming blackness had seemed to replace the ceiling, which was decorated with clusters and constellations. He looked down again to notice similar movement at his side. Green eyes met with green eyes, and Arthur found himself breaking a stare with Harry Potter himself.

An echoing _clunk_ rebounded in the near silent Hall, as Professor McGonagall placed down a four-legged stool. Although small and old-looking, it seemed like the scariest thing that had stood in front of the first-years at the moment. Then the witch put an older-looking hat onto the stool, which flopped limply. It was dirty, ragged and patched.

Arthur was wondering what they would have to do in front of the whole school involving a hat and a four-legged stool, as everyone was now intently watching the hat. _Maybe a monster would pop out of it, and we would have to fight it_, Arthur thought, panicking.

_'__With only a stool!'_ he then added as an afterthought. Then it twitched and Arthur half-expected a warty, clawed hand to reach out. A mouth-like tear appeared near the brim of the hat, and Arthur started wondering if the hat _was_ the monster.

But then it began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat.  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell in the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in old wise Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where whose of wit and learning,  
Will always find there kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Thunderous applause met the end of the song, and the Hat somehow tipped itself into four bows to each respective table. Then as if it never sang or moved, it became still.

_We just have to put on the hat,_ thought Arthur, relieved. But something troubled him; one line of the song the Hat had performed: "_There's nothing hidden in your head, The Sorting Hat can't see,"_ That deeply bothered Arthur, but then McGonagall stepped forward.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she announced. Then the first name was called. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A girl staggered and continued to the stool, placing the over-sized hat over her eyes. There was a second of silence before—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat bellowed.

One of the tables on the right applauded and shouted as Hannah went to sit among her fellow Hufflepuffs. A familiar fat ghost beamed at the new arrival; the Fat Friar.

Names were called in succession; "Arlovskaya, Natalia", "Adnan, Sadiq", "Beilschimdt, Gilbert", "von Bock, Edward," "Bones, Susan", "Bonnefoy, Francis" and "Boot, Terry" went up to the Hat, placed it on their head, and moved to the table that the House table the Hat had called.

The letters flew by, and soon "Granger, Hermione" was called, and a bushy haired girl eagerly ran to the stool and shoved the Hat on her head. Arthur thought he heard in it grunt at the forceful movement, but was quickly forgotten by the shout of "GRYFFINDOR" it said afterwards.

More applause sounded from a table in the far left as the joyous first girl joined her Gryffindors. Then:

"Kirkland, Arthur."

His surroundings went quiet and the pounding of blood in his ears deafened him. Arthur shakily sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on. He was surprised when there was a voice.

"Stop your shaking, I don't bite."

The Hat… it just spoke! Can anyone else hear it, or was he going crazy?!

"No, you aren't going crazy, you great twit, or everyone in this school would be considered bonkers too. Now, to business. Oh, loyalty and a possibility of friendship! Great Hufflepuff fibre, right there. But that hasn't been used in a long time has it? Did someone not want you to make friends?" it spoke, inside his head. Arthur wondered if it would work, and tried it.

_Can you hear me if I do this?_ he thought, concentrating.

"Curiosity and thirst for knowledge, this one. Yes, I can hear you," it replied. "Brave and out-spoken I see—maybe you're Gryffindor—"

"_NO_!" he mentally shouted, and the Hat jolted. "_Not Gryffindor! Anything, but Gryffindor!"_

"Why, child? Gryffindor is a mighty fine house. You would be quite happy there," the Hat reasoned. "Oh, someone doesn't want you to be in that house? Father's a Death-Eater eh? Hmmm, if so, you should be a SLYTHERIN!"

It gravelly voice boomed in the halls, and Arthur shakily made to stand up. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when the Hat spoke again.

"I don't do this often, but I think that might change. For your sake, you shall be Slytherin for now. Another house would suit you much, much more."

Wrenching the Hat of his head as if it had been halfway to being glued there, Arthur heard a "_Don't fool yourself,_" before he walked down towards a cheering crowd of green, silver and black.

The names seemed to fast-forward and meld into background noise, along with the cheers and claps. Arthur felt a little empty, and glanced up at the faces that would be his 'family', as McGonagall called it. They ranged from narrow, sly faces to chubby, dumb ones; there were a few that looked perfectly normal, and some that looked even vulnerable.

"Family, huh?" Arthur asked himself. "Better be better than the one back home."

The cheers changed to quiet hissing in a split name, which just happened to be "Potter, Harry". Everyone seemed to be in awe and curious to boot. Arthur would be lying if he said he wasn't interested at least a little bit, and even more so as to the incidents from before.

_Who does he look like, Arthur? Think, think! _Arthur berated himself, staring intently at the faraway face that belonged to Harry.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the Hat, and the intense whispering in the Slytherin table turned to groans and hisses. Reluctant applause was heard, muffling the curses directed at the Gryffindors. Pounding and whoops came from the table in the centre, surrounded by roaring students in gold, red and black.

Soon after that, the excitement died down to a few whispers, although some students still tried to get a peek of The-Boy-Who-Lived. When the applause for the last name was called out; "Zwingli, Vash" (HUFFLEPUFF!), Dumbledore came behind a host-stand adorned with a golden owl.

He wore a huge smile, arms spread as if expecting a massive hug, eyes glinting with joy.

"Welcome!" he announced. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

The Headmaster went back to his seat, accompanied by a wave of applause and laughter. Arthur just thought it was plain weird and odd.

"Mad," muttered one of the students behind him. He had brown hair that was slightly messy, like Arthur's, and had strange amber eyes. He too was clapping with the rest of the school, and grinning slightly. The boy reminded him of the Spanish boy back in the train; Antonio Carriedo. But this boy looked cheekier, like he would steal your eyebrows off you. His eyes were narrower, but not to be described as narrow. This boy had sharper features than Antonio, along with amber eyes instead of green, but other than that, they were basically twins.

The not-Antonio looked at Arthur, and cocked his head to one side. "You okay, amigo?"

_Great, he's Spanish too,_ thought Arthur. The word _'amigo'_ practically shouted that the boy was Hispanic. For some reason, Arthur covered his eyebrows, and said, "Yes."

The Spanish furrowed his brow and smiled with amusement, but was distracted by the mouth-watering food that had appeared on the golden plates.

"So…" he began, piling cuts of roast beef and potatoes onto his golden plate, "you're Arthur Kirkland, right?" He looked at Arthur's empty plate, and started piling chicken and potatoes onto it.

"Uh, yea—hey! What are you— I don't even like chicken! Now you're putting syrup on it?! Stop!" cried Arthur. Soon, a steaming dish was set before him. The not-Antonio beamed at him, at said:

"Ta-da!"

Arthur stared at the dish, only now noticing it was prepared to be presentable. Impressed, he poked the tender meat and tried a bit. The sweet fruity taste of the syrup complimented the slightly salty taste of the chicken.

"Hey this taste pretty good," commented Arthur.

"So does this!" exclaimed the not-Antonio, chomping into a familiar Pumpkin Pasty.

"Hey—wait, that's mine!" said Arthur, pointing accusingly at the not-Antonio.

"Of course it is! It was in your pocket! Unless you stole it too…" explained the not-Antonio, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"I'm supposed to be doing that, you conker!" scolded Arthur, slapping him on the head. The Spanish boy laughed, and after a while, Arthur grudgingly smiled.

Then the atmosphere turned chillier as a ghost drifted to sit beside a white-blonde-haired boy on the other side_. 'The boy was called Draco Malfoy, or something_,' recalled Arthur. '_And the ghost? The Bloody Baron. Father told me to get on the good side of him… if there was a 'good side'.'_

"G-good even-n-ning, sir," stuttered Arthur.

The ghost didn't reply. Instead, he stared at the food on the plates, some type of fire in his eyes. Silvery bloodstains were eerily splattered onto his attire, although the Baron did not seem to mind.

"Let's not bother him, shall we?" whispered the not-Antonio. Arthur nodded in agreement.

"By the way, I never got your name," Arthur whispered back. Somehow it seemed appropriate, despite the loud clamour of the Great Hall.

"Sebastian Rodriguez," he said, notching his voice up a little. "First-year." Arthur smiled.

"Arthur Kirkland," the blonde replied, holding out his hand, "I'm a first-year too." Sebastian took it, then drew him in and pounded him on the back with his free hand. Arthur broke away confused.

"Oh, was that supposed to be an actual handshake," Sebastian asked, bemused, "Oops."

Brushing himself off, Arthur continued to eat his dinner, hinting Sebastian on his table manners, or chatting about Hogwarts.

Finally, with full stomachs and drowsy minds, the feast ended. Dumbledore stood up again, and the half-finished dishes disappeared, the Hall falling silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have just a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember this as well."

Dumbledore's eyes crinkled as he smiled slightly towards the Gryffindor table.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

The Hall echoed with airy laughter, and a few Slytherins sniggered, but Arthur couldn't help but feel that he should probably take this warning seriously.

"He's joking, right?" whispered Sebastian. Arthur shrugged, hoping that Dumbledore was just kidding with them.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" announced Dumbledore. Arthur whipped his head towards Sebastian, mouthing a desperate "_Did you learn it?"_ Sebastian shook his head in answer. Fortunately, Dumbledore had waved his wand, producing a golden ribbon that wound itself into a series of words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," explained Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

On cue, voices sang in varying pitches, a jumble of words ahead and behind of each other:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things woth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."_

Arthur could hear the last sentence being repeated in different voices as everyone finished at different times. He himself had just read out the words at the start, but against his will, Arthur was caught up in the cheer of everything he started to add a tune. Sebastian had already struck up a cheerful, nice sounding tune, several Slytherins around him grinned in appreciation. He was a little off tune, but his radiance was infectious, and most students around Sebastian found themselves heartily singing along. Slowly, the words died out, leaving two Gryffindors to sing to a slow, funeral dirge. It was a comical sight to see Dumbledore play conductor and applaud the two students at the end (along with pounding claps from the rest of the school).

"Ah, music," Dumbledore remarked, making a great deal about wiping his watering, joyful eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Arthur and Sebastian followed the flow of Slytherins to their dormitory. Unlike most of the school, the green and silver group descended down multiple stairs, down to a damp, cold part of the castle.

"The dungeons," announced a boy with a shiny badge on his robe. "They also serve as the Slytherin common room and dormitories."

Arthur imagined himself in a grimy cell, locked up with a scrawny bed and dirty sink.

"The dungeons?" squeaked another first-year, looking like how Arthur was feeling right now. The others looked at other, confused and a little frightened. The prefect ignored them and turned to a wall. Everyone thought him to be crazy, until he said: "Hydra."

A stone door that had been previously hidden by a wall was revealed, as part of the wall slid away. Some students gasped, others 'ooh'ed and some let out a 'huh'. A few started to file in after the Prefect gestured to the entrance.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't a damp, moulding cell like he imagined, but instead, something of a high class suite, complete with comfortable armchairs and a crackling fire. Lamps storing green flames hung from chains on the side, bathing the room in an eerie green light. The mantelpiece had been heavily detailed with serpents and vines, framing a sparking fire. A few Slytherins from previous years had already arrived, slouched in armchairs or straight-backed and glaring at the fire, bathed in green light, making them seem like they were brooding.

"Your common room for the rest of your Hogwarts life," the Prefect introduced. Pointing to the corridors that seemed to burrow further underground, he spoke again: "The girls' dormitories are on the right and the boys' are on the left. Your luggage should already be at your assigned bed." With a smirk, he added a sarcastic bow, "Make yourselves at home."

A few first-years snickered at the little joke, and others ran excitedly to see the dorms. Soon, the students went to their respective sides, while Arthur nudged Sebastian's arm.

"What do you think?" he asked, walking down the left corridor. The Spaniard shrugged.

"It's pretty cool, except the green lights are real weird," he answered, walking alongside Arthur. The blonde nodded in agreement.

Arthur spotted his suitcase next to a four-poster bed, and went to unpack it. Neat, black cabinets with silver and gold lines were situated next to every bed. Several older students that had put off their packing until now seemed to use the cabinets to store their clothes and valuables.

The two boys bent next to their suitcases (coincidentally next to each other) and started to sort things out. But then Sebastian went to open one of the drawers, he swore.

"What's wrong?" asked Arthur, standing to see the fuss. It looked like some other first-years were in similar situations.

"Damn thing won't… open!" he explained, tugging hard of the golden handle of the top drawer. Arthur frowned and took out his wand, pointing it at the lock. It was a rowan with unicorn hair core. Mr. Ollivander, the wand maker, had expressed his liking for the particular wand.

"Nice spells from this one," he had said, "Treat it well."

A jerk pulled his shoulder back, waylaying the wand. Arthur grunted.

"What the bloody he—"

"Don't even touch that lock with you wand, unless you want to have to accompany your friend every time he wants to get something out of that drawer," a gruff voice said. Arthur turned to see a senior boy wearing a… mask?

"The lock reacts to your wand, and indirectly, their owner. It locks and unlocks at the touch of the wand that had touched it at the start of the year," the boy said. His red fez hat had tipped slightly on his dark brown hair, which he straightened it up right away.

"Oh," was what Arthur and Sebastian said to that, thanking their lucky stars they hadn't let Arthur's wand touch the lock.

"But really, you could just swap beds," added the student. "I'm Sadiq Adnan, by the way."

"Hey Sadiq," greeted Sebastian. Arthur nodded at the student. "So can you tell us how to open the blasted thing?"

"Yeah, sure. You just poke the lock with your wand and it'll pop open. Careful though, I saw a student poke the lock with a little too much energy and it ricocheted into his face. I think there's a sort of spell to make it store a lot more stuff than it looks like too. Try it out."

Sebastian gingerly tapped the lock, and the drawer made a clicking and grating sound, before popping open. The amber-eyed boy beamed at Adnan, before heartily slapping his back and saying: "Thanks, amigo!"

Adnan grinned.

"No problem….?" He said, trailing off.

"I'm Sebastian Rodriguez, and this grumpy kid's Arthur Kirkland!" introduced Sebastian, ignoring the slap on the head from Arthur. Sadiq straightened his fez again.

"Nice to meet you," he replied. "Have you seen this short Japanese kid around? I want to tell him something."

The boys both shook their heads as the other student took his leave, grumbling about "Hercules".

Arthur did the same process with his cabinet, except a spider came out with a cry from Arthur. After he calmed down, he neatly sorted his clothing into the drawers; clothing on the bottom, school things in the middle, and other knick-knacks on the top.

Drowsy from the excitement and a full stomach, Arthur barely had the energy to change to night clothes, before he snuggled under the covers and fell asleep.


	4. Act 4: Missing in Action

**Author's****Note:****Hey Anxnymous here! I haven't updated in a long time, but I'm excited to see that this story has twelve follows already! You guys are great, and thanks to those who reviewed~ Please REVIEW, FAVE and FOLLOW!**

* * *

**- Act Four: Missing In Action -**

"Hey… hey…. Wake up! First day of Hogwarts classes!"

Arthur shook his Hispanic friend awake, who drowsily replied with a 'whazzat?' and a groan. Sebastian opened his eyes and hastily shut them again. Arthur punched Sebastian, who had slinked under the covers and back into its warm confines. A grunt sounded and a few inaudible mumbles, before Sebastian blearily pulled back the covers.

Ten minutes later, Sebastian emerged from the dormitory corridor in messily donned school robes, leaving Arthur to talk about 'pride' and 'appearance', while fixing the uniform. When the blonde was satisfied, they went down to the Great Hall to eat their breakfast. After three locked doors and waiting in front of a normal painting that turned out not to be a shortcut to the Great Hall (courtesy of Peeves, the school prankster poltergeist), they finally arrived at the door of the Hall.

As they entered, the loud hubbub of excited students and the clink of cutlery of plates filled the Hall with a warm, vibrant feel. Once again, the golden plates were piled up with food; toast, pancakes, bacon and eggs, oatmeal, cereal and savoury pies.

The golden goblets were enchanted to fill with whatever the student felt peckish for on the particular meal, as Arthur had discovered at the Banquet. Last night, he had toyed between the ideas of apple juice to blackberry cordial, watching the colours switch from amber to a dark purple. Today, Arthur felt like some soothing, hot, English tea. Instantly, Arthur's golden cup filled with some of the hot beverage, the scent waking him up a little more.

Asking a still sleepy Sebastian to pass the huge bowl of fruit salad from his left, Arthur scooped a generous amount of the dish before digging in.

When they had finished, Arthur dragged a lagging Spaniard to their first class; Charms. The duo explored the wide, stone corridors and moving staircases, stopping at regular intervals when Sebastian wouldn't pay attention and sink into a trick step. Having the effects of a muddy quagmire, Arthur spent a few minutes helping Sebastian pull his foot out. With a horrendous _squelch_, they hurriedly climbed the steps.

Well, that was the plan before Arthur tripped over some type of wire that Peeves had set up. He could hear the gleeful cackle from the ghost before the ground came zooming towards him.

"_Spongify!"_

Instead of a painful impact like Arthur predicted, a soft surface enveloped his face. He stayed there, half shocked, half enjoying the feel on the spongy surface. Getting up reluctantly, he brushed himself off, glaring at a cackling Peeves.

"Thanks," he said, turning to Sebastian. But he had no wand out, and was staring at the blonde, half-frozen in the act to catch him. He straightened, confused, and turned. His jaw dropped, and so did Arthur's.

"Sh-Shadow?" Arthur asked. Her hair was drawn back into a ponytail, her ever-present bangs still faithfully hiding her eyes and nose.

The black haired girl just stared at him, impassive, wand in hand, and simply said: "Class is about to start," and walked off.

Arthur mouthed wordlessly, while Sebastian pleasantly waved farewell to the back of Shadow. Then, he took the other boy forcefully by the arm and dragged him towards the general direction of the Charms classroom.

"Who is she?" he whispered violently, still dragging Arthur. "Do you know her? How did a grump like you ("Hey!" cried Arthur indignantly) get to know someone like that?" Sebastian grinned dreamily, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

"That was Shadow," Arthur explained, and before Sebastian could ask any more, he ran to the queue of Slytherins outside a classroom. The door opened, and a few sniggers were heard. Our Charms teacher seemed to have been a result of a stray Shrinking spell, as he was about the height of most of his first-years.

After he quietly ushered us in, we sat at pairs on the provided desks. Then we proceeded with the hour of the correct wrist movement on wands, along with several 'accidental' hexes (accompanied by more snickering of Slytherins). Sebastian had to dodge Arthur's wand at one point, as the Brit was focused on something other than reality.

When the bell rang, the Slytherins rushed to get out of the stuffy classroom, and Sebastian put a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"You okay amigo?" he asked, eyes flashing concern. Arthur hesitated and then nodded.

"Yeah," he replied and then decided against it. "No actually. That girl just now, Shadow, she seemed so… distant. I met her in the Hogwarts Express and she was nothing like that. Well, at the start she was, but after a while, she started warming up to me a little.

"Also, she wasn't even at the Sorting Ceremony. Then she turns up the next day with the demeanour of some type of ice queen." Arthur shook his head and sighed. "Never mind, probably not the best to get mixed with her type anyways. Not being a pureblood and all."

Then Sebastian gave him this funny look, like something between pity and sadness. Then there was a bark behind them; hoarse and angry, as a hunched, ragged man hobbled up to them.

"What are you doing?!" he screeched, "About to place more of those dastardly Dungbombs on the first day of school?! I still have the stench in my nostrils! Hand them over!"

Arthur and Sebastian were dumbfounded, partly because the man was carrying on about his nostrils, saved only by being lifted along by some Hogwarts students. The screeches of the caretaker was left behind, an apologetic grin on Sebastian's face.

"That was Argus Filch," said a voice, heavily accented – German it seemed.

"The school caretaker," added another voice – French. "Always on the cases of innocent schoolchildren with that barmy cat of his; Miss. Norris."

"Although, some would say that the cases he chases are not as innocent as it may seem, amigos!" added a third voice, with a chuckle. Arthur widened his eyes; he knew the voices.

"Gilbert! Francis! Carriedo-boy!" he exclaimed, getting dumped by the Spanish.

"Carriedo-boy?!" he shouted, instantly regretting saving the Brit from Filch. A small item bulged in his pocket— a Dungbomb. Arthur narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to accuse him when—

"Woah~!" interrupted Sebastian, staring at Antonio. "We're like… twins!"

Antonio seemed to forget Arthur and in turn, stared at Sebastian. He raised his right hand, and Sebastian raised his left. They continued to mirror each other, dorky grins on their faces, until they finally stopped and looped an arm around each other's shoulders like they were childhood friends.

"Aw, this is totally awesome!" cried Sebastian, stoked.

"I agree amigo! Would you like a tomato?" offered Antonio, handing him a bright red tomato. Sebastian beamed, and thanked him.

"See, not all Slytherins are bad; look at Gilbert and this guy here," reasoned Francis to Antonio, no doubt carrying on from a previous conversation. "Except they might be a bit dumb, getting hurt on the first day by a 'ricocheting drawer'," he mumbled, despite the protest of Gilbert.

"Hey, that was surprising. My awesome reflexes were down after all that great food!" fought Gilbert on deaf ears.

"I'm Sebastian Rodriguez!" said Sebastian, holding out his hand.

"Si! A fellow Spaniard! I'm Antonio Carriedo!" replied Antonio, gripping the offered hand and doing that chest bump thing that Arthur didn't get.

"He knows it, he knows it!" exclaimed Sebastian, gesturing to a beaming Antonio. Arthur harrumphed, saying something about "barbarians' greeting" and "no decency for personal space".

"Come on, Herbology awaits!" interrupted an impatient Gilbert, and Antonio cheered.

"We have that class together, nuevo amigo!"

"Great!"

Then Francis bade them goodbye, going off to his History of Magic Class, leaving his Hufflepuff and Slytherin friends to go to the greenhouses.

"Just saying, we are _totally late_," informed Gilbert, setting off into a run. The others followed, Sebastian and Antonio chatting away in cheerful Spanish.

_Wednesday, Transfiguration_

"—Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Professor McGonagall had given us an immediate verbal beating down on the subject of Transfiguration. It sounded practiced, but even so, the class was quiet, very unlike Slytherins. Then, without a pop or bang as Arthur might have predicted, the professor turned her hat into a fluffy guinea pig, and back again.

There were a few 'oohs' from the not-so-snobbish Slytherins, but students like that white-blonde-haired kid called Malfoy kept quiet.

_I really don't like the look of him…_ commented Arthur to himself, while trying to transfigure a matchstick into a needle.

_Thursday, History of Magic_

The class stared at the figure at the head of the room, glancing to the door as if some witch or wizard was going to burst through and say "You've got the wrong teacher! Ha-ha, oops!"

But no one came to whisk away the impossibly boring teacher, Professor Binns, who happened to be a ghost. He droned on and on about witches and wizards who have changed magical history, unaware of the near-asleep class of Slytherin first-years. An enchanted parchment-plane flew through him, and yet Professor Binns did not notice.

Arthur desperately tried to stay awake, noticing Sebastian already asleep on the desk beside him. An infectious yawn started out in the room, students drowsily dropping like flies onto their desk, asleep.

_Friday, Potions_

"Double Potions today," reminded Sebastian, mouth full of bacon, eggs, and toast. Arthur had basically resigned himself to the fact that the Spaniard would never have what it takes to be civil. The Brit nodded in answer, double-checking that he had his Potions ingredients in his bag. He had heard that the professor, Professor Snape, who taught Potions, was favourable towards Slytherins, but he didn't want to take chances and slack off.

Arthur's eyes kept darting around the table, scanning the faces of the Slytherins. Sebastian butted into his view. Affronted, Arthur leaned back to pretend that he hadn't been particularly interested in anything, but Sebastian had (unfortunately) already caught on.

"Looking for someone?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. Arthur looked away, stabbing at his bacon.

"Hm? Who?" asked Arthur, as if he had absolutely no grasp on the situation.

"Oh… you know… that chica Shadow?"

Arthur's eye twitched.

"Why would I have anything to do with that girl?! Not a Slytherin or a pureblood!" he shouted, storming out of the Great Hall. Sebastian shrugged and trotted after him, hands in his pockets.

Potions class was back in the dungeons, a way off the Slytherin dormitory. A line of buzzing students were already there, although you could see an obvious divide left between a sea of black, yellow and red and the crowd of silver, green and black.

"Looks like the Gryffindors and Slytherins are in Potions together," muttered Arthur, who had quickly forgotten about the scene in the Great Hall. Sebastian nodded. Then the door opened and the students fell silent. A greasy haired man glanced over his students, hooked nose raised slightly.

"Come in quietly," he said, enunciating the last word. The class obeyed, and Arthur and Sebastian joined to file into the dungeon. It felt like entering a funeral service, and the dank and dark atmosphere of the dungeon didn't help.

As they sat of the widely spaced tables, Arthur gestured for Sebastian to join him at the next seat. As the shuffling decreased, the Snape started to take the register. He reached the name "Potter, Harry," and his lips curled into a smirk.

"Ah, yes," he said quietly, "Harry Potter. Our new— _celebrity._"

A trio of boys snickered in the corner, and Malfoy was one of them.

Arthur turned his head to stare at Harry as Snape finished the register and started talking about something about potions. When he had finally turned his attention back to the professor, Snape was already at the end of his lecture.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death— if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderhead as I usually have to teach."

The class was yet again silent; Snape seemed to have the knack of doing that. A bushy-haired girl; the girl that had gone before him in the sorting ceremony, Arthur noticed, was on the edge of her seat, looking excited about the whole thing.

"Potter!" Snape said, jerking the attention of everyone in the class. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to and infusion of wormwood?"

Harry was clearly stunned and confused at the sudden call-out, most likely not knowing the answer. Most of the class also didn't seem to know, like Arthur and Sebastian, except for that bushy-haired girl. Her hand had immediately shot up at the question, much to the wonder of some of her neighbours.

"I don't know, sir," answered Harry.

"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything," sneered Snape, Malfoy and his gang smirking with him.

The professor ignored the girl's hand and continued.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" asked Snape, eyes boring into Harry. The snickers loudened at the corner, and Arthur glared at them to shut up.

'_This is clearly unfair. Snape might be the head of Slytherin house and favour Slytherins above others, but this is going a little too far,' _thought Arthur, looking at Sebastian. The Spaniard clearly was disturbed by this act of outright harassment, and met Arthur's look.

Snape was onto his third question, something about monkshood and wolfsbane, still ignoring the girl's stretched, raised arm. In fact, she was now standing up; clearly frustrated he wasn't picking her.

"I don't know," replied Harry softly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Several students laughed, mostly Gryffindors. But Snape was far from happy.

"Sit down," he snapped at the girl, finally acknowledging her presence. Hermione sat down red-faced, a little sulky. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Arthur scrambled for parchment and ink, not wanting to get on the bad side of Snape. Sebastian seemed to be doing the same, as they jotted down what they could remember.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for you cheek, Potter," stated Snape over the shuffling.

After that, Snape seemed to prey to the Gryffindors as he set them onto the task of brewing a potion that could cure boils. He targeted Harry specifically though, much to the amusement of Malfoy, as he remarked on how Harry had poorly crushed his snake fangs, or weighed his nettles inaccurately.

As Snape was announcing the perfect way on how Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, a foul smell came from a pair. Stinging, green smoke burned the inside of everyone's noses, as seeping ooze was leaking from the pair's cauldron. It hissed when it made contact with chair and cloak, eating at the fabric or surface. Soon, everyone was on their seat, standing fearfully at the seething potion. Snape however, just stood in a little dry spot in the class, glaring at the boy who was now covered in boils.

"Idiot boy!" scolded Snape, flicking his wand out and clearing the potion away. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

The Gryffindor student just whined as ugly, red boils began to appear on his chubby face.

"Take him to the hospital wing," he snapped at the boy's potion partner, who hurried to usher the other out the door. He whipped around, glaring at Harry and ginger-haired boy, who was the neighbouring table to the right.

"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."-

Snape flapped his cloak as he turned around haughtily, Gryffindor students staring at him with burning hatred in their eyes. Harry opened his mouth, but his ginger-haired friend kicked him in the leg.

A few minutes later, most of the students had finished their potions, and were now lining up to present the vials to Snape. Slowly, each one got let off; the Gryffindors always getting much more critique than the Slytherins. Arthur thought he caught a familiar hair colour, but it turned out to Harry once again, angrily stuffing his equipment back into his bag and exiting, followed closely by his ginger friend.

_Who does he look like?_ Arthur asked himself, only to be interrupted by the same quiet voice of Professor Snape.

"Kirkland, would you like to step up or are you content staring into thin air?" asked Snape, cold, dark eyes staring at him. Arthur reddened and hastened to hand the professor his potion, apologizing. Snape nodded and remarked at the good colour of the potion. Arthur slowly went back to his desk, packing slowly while he was waiting for Sebastian.

They quietly exited the dungeon, not feeling the tense atmosphere lifting off their shoulders until they were a few feet away from the Potion's dungeon door. Breathing a sigh of relief, the usual happy-go-lucky smile returned to Sebastian's face and he hummed a happy tune. However, no smile returned to Arthur's as they were already halfway to their common room.

"She wasn't there," remarked Arthur suddenly, breaking the silence. Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Shadow wasn't in Potions," continued Arthur. "She hasn't appeared in any of our classes. Herbology with the Hufflepuffs; she wasn't there, Defence Against the Dark Arts yesterday with the Ravenclaws; she wasn't there. Is she even in this school?"

Sebastian laughed, and when Arthur glared at him, he turned away.

"What's so funny?" demanded Arthur, after stepping through the door part of the wall. Warm air blew onto their face as the entered the common room. Sebastian was still chuckling, waving his hand in denial.

"Nothing, nothing," he replied, laugh dying down. Arthur gave him one final glare before looking over the Spaniard's shoulders to a gathering crowd.

"What's happening over there?" asked Arthur, causing Sebastian to turn to the commotion. They hurried towards the crowd, squeezing through the gaps in the crowd and muttering apologies. The first-years around them chattered excitedly, although a few looked a little green. Sebastian yelped in excitement, and Arthur couldn't help but grin.

"_Flying lessons,_" breathed Sebastian in excitement. "Starting on Thursday, this Thursday!"

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**Author's ~After~****Note:****How'd you like it? Tell me through reviews, and tell me the stuff you liked and disliked.**

**PLEASE DO NOT PREDICT ANYTHING IN THE REVIEWS, IT WILL BE DELETED, NOT REPLIED TO, AND A MESSAGE WILL BE SENT TO YOU. THANK YOU.**


	5. Act 5: Flying Fatigue

**Author's Note:**** Hey Anxnymous here! I'm deciding to update early, because I'm going to be quite busy until next weekends. I might release a profile of Sebastian if you'd like; just comment if you do~ Now, onto the story! Please review after reading. Thank you and enjoy!**

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**-** **Act Five: Flying Fatigue**** -**

The rivalry against Gryffindor and Slytherin had gone back a few years after Hogwarts was founded by the four founders; Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. There was a spat between Godric and Salazar, starting the feud between the two houses.

Arthur had no personal grudge against the Gryffindors, but he was getting tired of the constant disgusted looks at him for no apparent reason. Snide whispers and quiet insults were said between the Gryffindors, still loftily believing the _Slytherins _were the bad ones. As for Antonio, these remarks seemed to just bounce right off him, as usually he would already be skipping away with a stolen object in his hands.

For the past few days, stories about brooms and narrow escapes from Muggles in flying contraptions (Malfoy always seemed to bump into helicopter-flying Muggles) flew around the corridors and common rooms. Often, verbal fights would break out on which was the better broom; the Comet Two-Sixty or the Silver Arrow. The talk about Quidditch also reached a peak, a popular wizard sport, and exclamations of which team they support echoed in the ears of Arthur.

Soon, Thursday arrived and first-years were rushing down the stairs; clamouring excitedly. Arthur and Sebastian were desperate to get the best brooms after hearing a story about a third-year's first-year experience; being bucked off a faulty broom in mid-air; broken bones for days.

Fresh air greeted them, and a small breeze had started up, as if encouraging them to run faster than the wind. Blue skies sports no sign of clouds, and the black of the Forbidden Forest seemed so far away at the opposite end of the field. Sebastian sprinted towards the lack notches in the grass further away, Arthur struggling to follow him. Catching his breath in wheezes, Sebastian looked at him pityingly.

"Whoa, amigos, you're out of shape," he commented. Arthur glared at him

"Shut…. U-up…" breathed Arthur, still gasping for breath. When he recovered, Sebastian was gesturing at him to come beside him.

"Amigo, I found fairly nuevo brooms over here," shouted Sebastian, pointing down at the brooms at his feet. Arthur walked over to where the Spaniard was.

"What's nuevo?" asked Arthur, examining the broom Sebastian had reserved. He ran his fingers along the handle, going over every bump and scratch. It did look fairly good compared to the ones a few brooms down.

"It means 'new' in Spanish," explained Sebastian, also examining his broom. A few minutes later, excited cheers from where the Slytherins had come from sounded, as the Gryffindors arrived. After the Gryffindors quieted down did Arthur notice a short, grey-haired woman with piercing, yellow eyes.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she snapped. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." The teacher, Madam Hooch, even swept her arms at some hesitant stragglers. That's when Arthur had a sharp intake of breath. Sebastian looked at Arthur in concern, patting his back, thinking that his British friend had breathed in a fly.

"Gerroff me," grunted Arthur, brushing off Sebastian's hand. He blinked his eyes and continued to follow his target; he was right.

"It's Shadow!" he hissed, gesturing at the black-haired figure standing by a broomstick a few students down from Harry. Shadow made no move to acknowledge Arthur or Sebastian, but instead, flicked her eyes over everyone else. "She's in Gryffindor? How come I didn't see her in Potions?" whispered Arthur violently. Before Sebastian could answer however, Madam Hooch cleared her barked out another instruction.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," instructed Madam Hooch, walking between the two lines of red and green. Arthur tried to edge us way closer to Shadow, dodging behind students and weaving through gaps. Sebastian hurriedly followed with a broom in hand, behind the turned back on Madam Hooch. "And say, 'Up!'" continued Madam Hooch, accompanied by shouts of 'Up!' by students.

Arthur dropped his broom a few students away from Shadow and said 'Up!' Sebastian followed suit, repeating the word; it was like the broom could feel the mischievous energy emanating off Sebastian, and refused to jump to his hand in fear of it all being a trick. With a grin, the broom went to Arthur's hand as he said it, clenching his fingers around the handle.

Then, borrowing a broom of a student, Madan Hooch demonstrated how to properly mount a broom. After everyone had a go, she went around correcting their grips or positions. Madam Hooch twisted Arthur's fingers painfully into the right grip, earning a wince from the boy.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," explained madam Hooch, holding the whistle in front of her mouth. Her grey hair flicked in the breeze, and her eyes ran over everyone, warning them to do as she says. "Keep you brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle – one – two –"

A pudgy boy, whom Arthur recognized from the disaster in Potions class, kicked off early, crying in horror as he rose steadily higher and higher.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch ordered, but to no avail. Then, the faraway figure on the broom jolted and slipped off, tumbling through the air and onto the ground. A sickening 'THUD' was heard, and Arthur couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy. Casting his eyes to see if the student-less broom would follow suit, Arthur saw the broom drift away towards the dark looming trees of the Forbidden Forest.

Groans and whimpers came for the boy and the teacher kneeled down to check his injuries.

"Broken wrist," she mumbled. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."

Rounding towards everyone, she cast a threatening look towards all of them.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch". Come on, dear," she finished, changing to a soothing voice when encouraging Neville. They walked towards the castle, sniffling and sobs echoing back to everyone left on the lawn. When they disappeared, Arthur heard a familiar laugh.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" cried Malfoy gleefully. The Slytherins around him laughed too; but Sebastian and Arthur stayed out of it.

"Shut up, Malfoy," retorted an Indian girl wearing Gryffindor colours.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said a Slytherin girl, sneering; Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Parvati." The Indian Gryffindor named Parvati flushed.

"Look!" cried Malfoy, reaching down to where Neville had fallen. Holding up an orb-like object, he continued: "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry, making the students fall silent. Sebastian held back Gilbert, whom they ended up next to. The albino looked ready to pummel Malfoy.

Malfoy sneered.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?" asked Malfoy sarcastically. Harry darted forward.

"Give it _here_!" he repeated, shouting angrily. In response, Malfoy mounted his broomstick and soared into mid-air.

"Come get it, Potter!" he challenged. Harry made to mount his broom stick, but to Arthur's surprise, Shadow stepped forward with Hermione to hold Harry back.

"_No!_" cried Hermione, panicking. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

"Listen to her," said Shadow quietly, dark bangs still covering her eyes. "If you really want it back, I'll get it back from Malfoy for you."

But Harry ignored both of them and kicked from the ground. Arthur had inched closer to Shadow without her noticing.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed. Arthur glared at her.

"I'm in this flying class! You can't avoid me forever," replied Arthur. Shadow looked at Harry in the air, rising towards Malfoy, and back at Arthur, before snatching the broom off Arthur. The blonde boy widened his eyes, thinking,_ "She's not serious."_

But Shadow was serious, as she too, mounted her broom like Harry, and kicked off.

"Give it here," Harry repeated yet again, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh yeah?" sneered Malfoy, but his eyes flicked nervously to the sides and back to the ground; he was quite far up, and he could end up just like Longbottom.

"Harry! Get on the ground _now_!" demanded Shadow, flying to the side of Harry.

"Not until I get that Remembrall back," replied Harry, casting Shadow a look. You could see Shadow's mouth contort, no doubt struggling to form a valid argument.

"Fine," she said, "But I'm helping; you'll break your neck." Harry gave her a thankful yet wondering look, but turned his eyes back to Malfoy. The Slytherin was really panicking now; two against one was not to his advantage.

Abruptly he zoomed away on his broom, Shadow and Harry pelting close behind. There were 'ooh's' from the ground, and gasps as Harry seemed to plummet for a second. Shadow drew back immediately when that happened, but the black-haired boy recovered to chase after Malfoy. Shadow followed suit, and Malfoy found him in between both Gryffindors. Looking as if he would run straight into a castle wall, Malfoy slowed to race vertically down the wall, Shadow and Harry both closing in from the sides. Malfoy panicked, and threw the Remembrall into the air, pulling out of the dive.

"Catch!" Malfoy shouted over his shoulder as he retreated to the ground.

Harry and Shadow, glanced back at the retreating figure of Malfoy, but Harry urged his broom towards the ground after the Remembrall.

"Harry!" Shadow cried. "Pull out!" But when Harry showed no signs of doing so, she continued with him, grabbing to the end of his robe and halting abruptly in the air. Harry jerked back, tipping Shadow off her broom. Collective screams and gasps came from the crowd below, but Shadow had managed to grip the handle of her broom with one hand; hanging on tightly. With Harry's robe in one hand and the other on the handle of the broom, the two students swayed in mid-air. A small protuberance of a stick-like object was half-hidden in Shadow's hand; her wand.

"_Accio broom!_" she shouted, and Harry's broom came back and slammed right between his legs. Grunting painfully, he doubled over and gripped his broom. Somehow, Shadow managed to get her broom to lower down, until her feet were inches from the ground. She then stumbled off and Arthur hurried to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Shadow barely managed a nod, turning away. Arthur slid her arm around his shoulder, as she grudgingly leant on him for support. Arthur could hear her taking deep breaths in and out.

Harry looked dazed, still doubled-over from the impact from his returning broom. Going over to Shadow after he straightened up, he held out his fist. Everyone stared at it, Shadow exhaled in relief.

"You got the Remembrall!" shouted Sebastian, pointing at Harry's fist. The students gasped and started to cheer, when –

"HARRY POTTER!"

Arthur winced and looked over Shadow; it was Professor McGonagall. She was storming towards them.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –" she began, but Shadow butted in.

"Professor, it was my fault. I convinced him to do it," she supplied. Gilbert snorted.

"Yeah right. It was that dummkopff, Malfoy!" shouted Gilbert. A few Gryffindors shouted their assent, and several decent Slytherins looked nervously around for the missing boy.

"Be quiet, Beilschimdt," she snapped.

"But Malfoy—"

"You too, Weasley. Potter, follow me, now," ordered Professor McGonagall. Harry's face fell, eyes looking towards the ground in shame. Shadow made to follow too, but the Professor stopped her yet again.

"Professor!" exclaimed Shadow, unbelieving. Arthur ran up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, and opened his mouth to say something to her.

"Shadow, you look pale," commented Arthur, for some reason hoping that he could distract Shadow and divert Professor McGonagall's wrath. How dim was this girl, to seek a possible expulsion from her Head of House?

"Kirkland is right," agreed Professor McGonagall. "Would you kindly take her to the hospital wing, Kirkland? Take someone else if you need help," she said, directing her attention to Arthur. The blonde nodded, and called Sebastian silently with a flick of his head. Shadow started to protest, but it seemed like she was about to be sick, and kept her mouth shut. Sebastian slung Shadow's other arm over his shoulder before cooperating with Arthur to the direction of the castle.

The silence hung over the trio as they reached the Entrance Hall, and Sebastian exchanged worried looks with Arthur. Then, a small mumble escaped Shadow's lips.

"Sorry what?" asked Sebastian as he leaned closer to her mouth to hear what she was saying.

"I can…get to the… hospital wing," she provided, between gulps and swallows. "Alone," she added, before stumbling towards the hospital wing. Arthur and Sebastian watched her from a distance, as Shadow took a few more steps forwards and stumbled.

"Yeah, right," said Arthur, slinging her arm around his shoulder once more. "You're not getting anywhere alone in that state."

Sebastian nodded in agreement.

Again, the trio headed for the hospital wing, and upon entry of the infirmary, an old witch with curly grey hair peeking out of a cloth on her head bustled out to relieve them of Shadow. Arthur and Sebastian hurriedly followed the woman, who had placed Shadow on a bed.

"What happened?" inquired the matron, fussing over Shadow; placing her hand on Shadow's forehead, inspecting the dilation of her pupils and the colour of her tongue.

Sebastian shrugged, but Arthur replied: "Shock; flying lessons in the fields. She has a nasty fear of heights; but too proud to back out."

Shadow shot him a dirty look but did not contradict him; Sebastian raised an eyebrow; but the matron huffed and went off to get Shadow's treatment.

"Fear of heights?" croaked Shadow, meaning for it to be more of a growl. Sebastian laughed.

"It's kind of true. What would you have said?" challenged Arthur, pulling up two chairs for both him and Sebastian to sit on.

"Not that," replied Shadow. Arthur turned to glare at the next bed, but caught the very quiet 'thanks' from Shadow. Grinning, Sebastian caught a hint of a smile on Arthur's features, before it disappeared as the blonde rounded on Shadow.

"What were you thinking?! Recklessly flying on the brooms like that?" scolded Arthur, reminding Sebastian much of a fussing mother.

"Come on," said Sebastian, nudging Arthur. "It was pretty awesome, seeing the _chica_ fly like that. I don't think it would have been her _first time_ on a broom to pull off moves like that."

"Oh, it was," whispered Shadow quietly, turning her head away from the burning glare of Arthur and jaw-drop of Sebastian.

"It. Was. Your. First time?" growled Arthur through gritted teeth. Sebastian visibly scooted to the side a bit, away from Arthur; but Shadow remained still in her bed.

"Yes," she answered. Sebastian gulped as the deadly aura from Arthur flared, but the two was saved as the matron bustled into the scene.

"Some Vitamix Potion," she said, setting down a small vial. "It'll give you more energy; hopefully get some colour into that pretty face of yours." Then she added kindly, after placing a steaming mug on the side table, "Along with some hot chocolate."

"Thank you…?" began Shadow, reaching for the vial.

"Madame Pomfrey, dear," she introduced, patting Shadow's head and walked away. Sebastian stared at the hot chocolate hungrily, but Arthur elbowed him and he diverted his gaze to tile floor in interest.

_What a glutton,_ thought Arthur, before turning back to Shadow.

"Why did you try to get a deliberate expulsion? Don't like Hogwarts already?" asked Arthur, after Shadow had drunk half of the Vitamix potion. The usual shade returned to the parts of her face that weren't covered by her bangs; Arthur still had not seen Shadow's eyes.

"It would be only fair to receive the same punishment as Harry for doing the same thing," answered Shadow calmly, taking another sip of the potion. As she placed it down, she turned to face Arthur, and he saw Sebastian take tentative taste of the vial behind Shadow. "You always seem to have questions whenever I meet you."

"That's because you bloody disappear and reappear with no explanation!" exclaimed Arthur, and Madame Pomfrey peeked into the area and shushed him.

"I never recall having to owe you explanations," hissed Shadow. Sebastian's eyes had lit up after his little swig, and his leg was bouncing up and down like he had a sugar-high. Any moment it seemed he would shoot out of his chair and burst through the stone ceiling. The contents of the vial were barely recognizable in its measly amounts and Arthur shot him a look.

"Where were you after the train? The Sorting Ceremony? The classes in the first week of school?" asked Arthur, attempting to ignore Sebastian, but he burst into his vision.

"Wellamigosshewasthereallalong!" he blurted, words crashing into each other, positively bouncing on the balls of his feet. Arthur calmed him down and pushed him back into the seat, making gentle shushing noises. After that, Sebastian continued, "In Potions class, while you were so busy staring at Harry Potter, she was right behind Malfoy, glaring a hole in his pureblood head!"

Arthur straightened up in surprise, and Shadow gave an awkward cough.

"As for after the train, it looked like someone," she began, and then gave a mumble that sounded like 'Weasley twins and company', "let a giant tarantula loose in one of the train compartments. Professor McGonagall asked me to assist her in the removal of it, as I was hanging back a little. She seemed to be in a hurry, and didn't look keen on the thought of a tarantula crawling up her robe."

Arthur opened his mouth to interject but Shadow silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Don't underestimate Professor McGonagall, she needed to be at the Sorting Ceremony. She would've done it herself in an instant if not for the time factor."

Still, the blonde was not entirely convinced, but decided that the subject wasn't as important anyways.

"So that's why Professor McGonagall looked so annoyed when she reappeared to take us for the Sorting Ceremony," remarked Sebastian thoughtfully, and Arthur had remembered the strict-faced witch's tilted hat.

"Giant tarantulas are… not the easiest jobs, and I guess I unfortunately missed the Sorting Ceremony. _Professor Dumbledore_," she said, the name not coming quite as easy as the rest of the sentence, "Sorted me privately in the end, so it's not such a huge mess-up." Shadow ended the conversation abruptly with a simple shrug.

_There are a lot of empty spaces in her explanation_, thought Arthur. Shadow reached for her Vitamix, and frowned when she found it empty.

"I swear…" she muttered, looking around as if she may have accidentally spilt the potion. Sebastian grinned at me, as Shadow patted the sheets for the spillage. The Spaniard managed to distract Shadow by asking how she took care of the giant tarantula.

"A simple spell," Shadow answered, brushing it off. Before Arthur could say any contradictions, Shadow put up a hand. "You should be getting back to class. Your professor will not be pleased at your late arrival."

Sebastian jumped right up, bouncing up and down on, impatiently waiting for Arthur. The latter got up slowly, casting a furtive glance at Shadow. She had turned away to look out the window and onto the grounds, and Arthur couldn't help but imagine how she would look like without her bangs.

_Beautiful, perhaps_, Arthur mentally whispered, then slapped himself, much to Sebastian's surprise. _What!? No, no, no! What am I thinking!? She's not a pureblood, not a pureblood! And you're in your first-year for goodness sake, no falling for anyone, let alone mysterious individuals!_ Berating himself silently as Sebastian blinked and looked at him quizzically, they made to leave.

Following Sebastian out, Arthur heard a 'Don't forget to close the door!' from the matron. Stealing on more look at Shadow, he heeded Madame Pomfrey, and shut the door behind him.

A brooding expression came onto his face, forgetting his mental episode previously. _She performed a legitimate Summoning Spell in a very pressing situation. 'Accio' is a fifth-year, maybe higher, grade spell, and yet she performed it in her first-year,_ he thought, and an interested look came onto his face. _In the Hogwarts Express, the casual use of the Locomotion Charm on the train to move her trunk; I don't even know what year level that spell is._

"Interesting, interesting," Arthur said out loud, much to the confusion of Sebastian. The blonde was grinning slyly, yet he could not hide the wicked intent to find out more of Shadow's mysterious self.

_She who has no first name or last name…_ he thought, heading towards the History of Magic classroom; he would have much time to think in that useless lesson.

_Just who are you, Shadow?_

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**Author's ~After~ Note:****So, guess who 'accidentally' released a giant tarantula into the Hogwarts Express... Hint: A chapter in the book (the part where Harry boards the train) gives off a hint that someone(s) have to depart because they have business with a tarantula... Guess who... or should I say, whos? **


	6. Interlude: Enter, Sebastian Rodriguez

**Author's Note:**** Hey Anxnymous here! How are you guys all doing? I'm doing pretty great because of all the faves and follows this series is getting! I'm really pumped, and I've been playing with this idea for a few weeks, but since you've all been such awesome people, I've decided to go with it. I've done a little profile of my OC, Sebastian Rodriguez! You've all gotten to know him a bit in the story, but do you REALLY KNOW HIM. Here's a bit of inside information on Sebastian, OC from "Scripted To Die"!**

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**- Interlude: Character Profile #1 -**

~In the Slytherin common room~

Arthur Kirkland: Okay Sebastian! I got this profile sheet you need to fill out for the author!

Sebastian Rodriguez: Oooh, sounds fun!

A.K: I've filled out most of it [my handwriting is the elegant style of italics, _see?_], but there's still some thin-

S.R: Oh, so you're interested in me are you?

A.K: *splutters* Wh-What? N-NO! As I said, this was for the author, not-

S.R: Alright, alright, no need to get your wands in a bend.

A.K: *clears throat* Well, I'm glad you see reason.

S.R: Sure! *whispers* Whatever creepy tsundere admirer.

A.K: SEBASTIAN!

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**Profile #01: Sebastian Rodriguez**

**Interviewer: **_Arthur Kirkland_

**Full name of Character:** _Sebastian Andrés Rodriguez_

**Age:** _11_

**House:** _Slytherin_ **Social class:** _Pureblood _**Race:** _Wizard_

**Appearance:** _Messy, short, (not very) dark, brown hair and curious amber eyes (one would compare the shade as to that of golden syrup, but lighter). Slightly tanned skin, with no freckles or moles at all. Heart-shaped face with the ever-present cheerful or mischievous expression on his features. Not fat, but not scrawny; might not look like it, but can punch well when time calls (Note: Don't frighten him when he's half-asleep in the dark; it will end in a slightly bloody nose).  
Looks almost identical to Antonio Carriedo*. [I said I was sorry!]^_

**Distinguishing features:** _Mischievous or radiant expressions on his face; be careful when the 'mischievous' side is showing – keep your valuables close._

**Likes:** Pretty girls, valuable/tasty/interesting objects to steal, Arthur, Shadow, Antonio, sleeping, eating, sleeping and food.

**Dislikes:** People who punish me for stealing, people wasting food, waking up, homework, people who make pretty girls sad and teachers.

**Pastimes/ Hobbies**: Stealing, annoying Arthur [_I KNEW IT YOU GIT]_, pulling pranks, talking in Spanish with Antonio, eating, sleeping, sleeping and eating.

**Can be found:** at the side of Arthur Kirkland ( we're BFF's ), _flirting with girls in the Hogwarts grounds, around Francis, Gilbert and/or Antonio, talking to Antonio in Spanish, hiding in an empty classroom/broom closet from angry girls or teacher (or both)._

**Talents:** _Stealing objects under people's noses, making others happy (for some reason; cause yet to be discovered). _Annoying Arthur_ [__Git__]._

**What do they consider their best physical characteristic and why:**My really, really big muscles._ -Answer not available-_

**Are they realistic assessments?:** Yes._OF COURSE NOT!__ -Answer not available-_

**Additional Notes:** He has the awesomest muscles I've ever seen, Merlin's pants _ -No additional notes what-so-ever.-_

_*Profile not completed_

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Sebastian Rodriguez: All done~!

Arthur Kirkland: Okay, just let me check it over... Hold on a minute.

S.R: ...? My handwriting is the one without all the stupid curls and linking.

A.K: Git, that's my handwriting you're insulting. But look here, you've written eating and sleeping in your likes too many times!

S.R: But I really like it~!

A.K: BFF's? *crosses out* Really big muscles? *crosses out* OF COURSE THIS ISN'T A REALISTIC ASSESSMENT *crosses out AGGRESSIVELY* I WROTE NO SUCH

EXTRA NOTES! *almost tears paper while crossing it out*

S.R: Aw, we're not friends?

A.K: W-well, you were the first one to reach out to me, and I kinda do like your company despite your crude manners. I g-guess I could call you my frie-

S.R: Aren't one of the main characters supposed to have the first profiles? Like you or Shadow?

A.K: ... (He's right.)

Anxnymous: ... (He's right.)

A.K: (Explain Anxnymous the author.)

Anxnymous: (Sorry, it was a request on my DeviantART. I guess you just weren't important enough...)

A.K: (HEY!)

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**Author's ~After~ Note:**** Yes this was a request on DeviantART (I have an account on there), but I was debating whether to release the profile here or not. Looks like Sebastian is more loved than Arthur (heh). I will update "Scripted To Die" soon, but I'm agonizing over the final things! Also, I'm doing commissions on DeviantART, so maybe I won't update it so soon... Hmmmm... BUT, I promise to update when I can, and I cross my fingers and hope YOU GUYS will stay with me! I hope you enjoyed this, and THANK YOU FOR ALL THE FOLLOWS! KEEP THE REVIEWS COMING INNNNN~!**


	7. Act 6: Request Denied

**Author's Note:****Hey Anxnymous here! I reckon I should release this chapter today, considering the previous one was just a bonus chapter. This is the last pre-prepared chapter I have, so the next few submissions won't be a weekly update. Enjoy, review and follow for more?**

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- **Act Six: Request Denied**** -**

"Come on, you can do it. Be a good little matchstick and turn into a needle."

Arthur sighed, looking pityingly at a concentrating Sebastian, who was now coaxing a matchstick to Transfigure into a needle. A half-eaten savoury lay abandoned in the golden plate by Sebastian's side; very unlike the Spaniard with the bottomless stomach.

"Look, I think I see a sliver of silver!" teased Arthur, stifling a yawn. The blonde just wanted to get the whole Transfiguration frenzy phase out of Sebastian's system, because he was annoying him to no ends. But Sebastian looked at him with fire in his eyes, making Arthur jolt back in surprise.

"Really?! Where?!" cried Sebastian, chomping down the remains of the cold savoury. Feeling like he just wanted to stuff his face into the mashed potato, Arthur resisted the urge to stick his wand somewhere unpleasant.

"That was just a joke, you know," muttered Arthur, not feeling like eating anymore. Sebastian's crestfallen face lingered near the corners of his eyes, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Before the Spaniard could retort something, steps came towards both of them. Looking over the shocked and scandalized faces of the Slytherins before turning, Arthur eyes bulged in surprise.

"Potter?!" exclaimed Arthur in surprise. The messy-haired boy ignored the glares of the other Slytherins, while the same ginger haired boy tugged at Harry's robe in a silent plea to head back to their House table.

"Yeah. Anyways, I need to talk to you about something," replied Harry, staring resolutely at Arthur and only Arthur. His green eyes sometimes flicked to Sebastian's confused face, but flicked back to Arthur straight after. "Now," he added, urgently. Finally, he began to show some nervousness in the enemy territory, and Arthur debate between letting him suffer a little more or go as Harry requested. Why would Arthur risk getting a grudge from his fellow Slytherins over some Gryffindor boy who happened to be lucky? The answer came quicker than Arthur expected.

"It's about Shadow," muttered Harry, loud enough for Gilbert (who sat beside Arthur), Sebastian, and Arthur to hear, but no-one else. The albino nudged Arthur to go, and the blonde brushed of the gesture in an annoyed manner. The name of the girl suddenly peaked Arthur's interest, and immediately, he stood up, nodding at Harry.

As soon as they were out of the Great Hall and away from accusing eyes, Harry started talking. Sebastian tagged along, trying to interact with the ginger-haired boy. Arthur's full attention was tuned to Harry now.

"I got into the Quidditch team," started Harry, and Arthur blinked in surprise. They started climbing up some of the moving steps and were careful to jump over the trick-marshy one; Sebastian yet again forgot and with some inner conflict, the ginger helped him out.

"What?! How?!" cried Arthur in disbelief. "First-years aren't supposed to– they aren't allowed to– you didn't even–"

"My little episode at our first Quidditch lessons was enough to impress Professor McGonagall," explained Harry, with a little pride in his voice. Arthur's mouth formed a small 'o' still disbelieving. Then the gears finally turned and something clicked.

"Does Shadow get a spot too?" asked Arthur eagerly and somewhere in the background, he heard Sebastian talking animatedly in a one-sided conversation behind him. But that was forgotten when Harry's face darkened.

"Professor McGonagall… seemed reluctant. She didn't even tell Wood Shadow existed!" answered Harry, and then he quickly added: "Wood is the captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team by the way."

Arthur put on a brooding look, subconsciously following Harry. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked at the black-haired boy suspiciously. "Why are you telling me all this? How do you know that I won't blab your Gryffindor Quidditch tactics and try get Shadow, an obviously talented person on a broom, away from the team? Are you trying to lead me on?"

Harry gave Arthur a funny look, like the blonde was a guinea pig trying to roll over but was too fat to. "Wow, you Slytherins really got the suspicion department underway, huh?" But Arthur's glare didn't let up and Harry shrugged.

"I trust you," he simply said. "And your Spanish friend." Harry missed the surprised look on Arthur's face as he stepped through the double doors of the hospital wing. Then as if he was holding up pent up energy, he bolted towards the drawn curtains of a cot where Shadow was.

Pulling back the curtains, he grinned at the impassive girl reading a book on the bed; despite the bangs that came over her eyes.

"I could hear you guys from miles away. Aren't you supposed to be in the Great Hall eating dinner?" she commented dryly before allowing anyone to say anything. An empty dish held remains of what looked like mashed potatoes with gravy, and when Sebastian came over and dipped a finger into the leftover sauce, he remarked with: "Mm, chicken!"

"I got into the Quidditch team," interrupted Harry, coming straight to the point. Arthur looked at him disapprovingly; obviously this kid didn't have any tact. But Shadow didn't seem to mind; in fact, she looked like she expected it.

"Congratulations, Harry," she commended, voice as inexpressive as ever. Harry beamed like she pounded him on the back heartily and smiled from ear-to-ear.

"Yeah, that means you could sign up for it too, since you did an equally impressive display as me," said Harry, and the ginger-haired kid nodded furiously.

"You should do it! I think Professor McGonagall is acting a little unreasonable for not mentioning you," he chipped in, putting on a knowing look.

"'Unreasonable' is a big word for you, Ron," said Shadow, and the ginger-haired boy –Ron–, looked highly affronted.

"Well, excuse you, but I'll have you know–," he began, but Harry cut in.

"So you're going to join?"

"No," answered Shadow, opening her book back up and flicking up the dog-ear on the page. Harry's mouth was agape; Ron looked like he had been hit by a Confundus Charm and Sebastian and stopped licking the gravy of his fingers.

Arthur, on the other hand, was a little bit of all of them, minus the gravy-licking.

"What?!" cried Arthur and Harry in sync, and they slammed their hands on the little side table that hangs over Shadow's lap. It snapped from the hinges and Madame Pomfrey hurried out to magically repair, giving the two boys a glare.

"You're not–" began Harry.

"–going to join?!" finished Arthur, his voice somewhat outraged.

"You must be mad!" exclaimed Ron, the highly affronted look on his face notched up on level of angry annoyance.

"Bonkers!" agreed Sebastian, a little bit of sauce of the edge of his lips. Shadow picked up a clean, leftover napkin and dabbed at the smudge, much to the appreciation of Arthur and Sebastian.

"Wasn't it my choice if I would join or not?" asked Shadow, laying down the dirtied napkin next to the scraped dish.

"NO?!" answered Arthur and Harry, half-asking, half-shouting. Madame Pomfrey popped in to shush them with more haughty glares.

"Quidditch!" put in Ron, shaking his hands in front of him, as if it would convince Shadow to agree. Sebastian gave her a look.

"Look, I know that you were Muggle-born, and you probably don't know what Quidditch is, but it's great! The sensation of flying through the air on a broom is just half of it!" explained Harry frantically. "You were amazing! Wood would agree to let you in, I promise!"

"Look Harry," fought Shadow, an angry note creeping into her voice, "I don't care who this 'Wood' is, or the 'sensation of flying through the air' feeling, I'm not… playing… Quidditch!"

"Why not?" pushed Harry further, seemingly forgetting the other three boys and Madame Pomfrey. His green eyes stared resolutely at Shadow's bangs, not daring to blink.

"Harry," began Shadow coldly, "I think it's time for students to head back to their dormitories. I will stay in the hospital wing for the time-being." Her tone finalized the argument, although everyone was still ready to burst.

Harry stormed out of the room, black hair looking more dishevelled, with Ron pursing his lips, before following close behind. Arthur made to get out too, as Sebastian had already exited with a heavy yawn, but stopped just as he turned around.

"I saw you," whispered Arthur, turning his head to face her. She calmly regarded him, and Arthur got the urge to jump out the window again. But he fought it down, and glared at her.

"I know you saw me, Arthur," stated Shadow in a matter-of-factly voice, "it was hard not to when I was zooming around on a broom when I wasn't suppos–"

"Not that!" Arthur cried, infuriated. "Your face! I may not see your eyes, but your expression, your body language, everything! You were just so –_into_– flying, whizzing, shooting through the air on a broom. You and Harry both!"

Realization dawned on him, as he remembered the frustrating phase where he had tried to remember who Harry reminded him of. Harry had reminded him of Shadow; the same black, messy hair. But she was as different as a person that Arthur couldn't fathom how he had paired them together in the first place.

"You're holding back, Shadow," added Arthur, voice down to a whisper again. "You don't have to, you know. Join the Quidditch team."

Then he walked out of the hospital wing, and he thought he heard Shadow reply.

"I wish I could Arthur. I really do."

* * *

**Author's ~After~ Note:**** PLEASE DO NOT POST YOUR PREDICTIONS IN THE REVIEWS! It really puts me off writing more, and it's unfair to other readers who might not have picked up on the hints. Thank you~!**


	8. Act 7: Malfoy Plots

**Author's Note: **** Hey Anxnymous here! How are you all doing? I've finally gotten the inspiration to continue this series, so yay! I'm excited from the number of favourites and follows this is getting. Thank you for following this series. Enjoy and review? **

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**- Act Seven: Malfoy Plots -**

Darkness surrounded him, save for the tiny, flickering brazier by the doorway that led out of the dormitories. Arthur stared at the top of his double poster bed, unable to sleep. Sebastian's snore was heard from the next bed on Arthur's left, and a loud mutter in Spanish escaped the Spaniard's lips. As if in response, something in German was snored out of Gilbert's undoubtedly open mouth on the right side of Arthur. Holding back an exasperated sigh, Arthur wish he could transfigure some quills into some handy earplugs. It was a really bad choice to advise an early sleep to the duo, especially when Arthur was retiring too.

But as much as Arthur blamed the other two boys' snores for his lack of sleep, the truth was his mind was still boiling with disbelief and anger at Shadow's obviously stupid decision. An once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join a Quidditch team underage and she denied it! To put it Ron Weasley's words, Shadow was downright mad.

But then there was the other half that wasn't bubbling over in accusations, and instead, filled up with eight words.

_"__I wish I could Arthur. I really do."_

What had Shadow meant when she said that? Was it a trick of his mind that Arthur experienced when exiting the hospital wing? Maybe she had never actually said that… but maybe she did.

Wanting to shout in frustration, Arthur threw off the covers and slid out of bed. Fumbling for his school robes, Arthur changed back into them in the dark, grunting in pain as his toe hit his bedside drawer. When his throbbing toe ceased its blunt pain, Arthur hobbled towards the green flame that illuminated the faint outline of the doorway.

Taking the steps slowly, a greenish glow became brighter and brighter at the end of the stairs, and Arthur entered the Slytherin common room. The ever-crackling green flames consumed the wood, throwing its unusual light onto the armchairs set near the fireplace.

Slumping into one of the chairs, he eyed a group of Slytherins laughing in a corner over some joke. Flicking his eyes back and forth from one group to the next, Arthur was annoyed to feel his sleepiness come only now. About to rise from his recently occupied armchair, he stopped when he heard the familiar drawl of Draco Malfoy, a fellow Slytherin.

Arthur sat back down, reluctant to cross paths with the snobby Slytherin, let only acknowledge the light-haired boy was in the same house as him. The blonde knew what pride was, and agreed to some level that the other three houses sometimes did not have it, but felt that Malfoy was just a jerk.

To Arthur's dismay, Malfoy settled himself in the armchair not far from the blonde's, his two big friends pulling up a pair of footrests. The pale boy was wearing a smug smile, like he had just executed a very clever retort, but judging from his two lackeys' faces, they did not get it.

"Come on, Crabbe, Goyle. Aren't you guys at least a little tickled about what I did?" asked Malfoy, looking at the two boys disbelievingly. Crabbe and Goyle blinked, and started to laugh; very stupidly Arthur might add. Malfoy did not seem to mind however, and leaned back further into the comfortable armchair, satisfied by their goofy response.

"Potter is going to get quite the surprise tonight," Malfoy said smugly, and Crabbe and Goyle's laughter became louder. Resisting the urge to directly ask the pale boy what he meant, Arthur gripped the armrests tightly.

Why was Arthur reacting so strongly? Potter was, after all, a Gryffindor; basically an automatic enemy of Slytherin, and therefore Arthur himself. But then Malfoy continued to talk, snapping Arthur out of his confused thoughts.

"That blood traitor's his second right?" Malfoy continued, and then he laughed. The two other boys looked at each other, still grinning dumbly. "Won't they be alarmed that their midnight duel is going to turn into a detention?"

Arthur's green eyes widened, and his mind whirred. Malfoy leaned forward a bit, eyes wide like Arthur's, but full of excitement. "Do you think Potter and his blood traitor friend might be expelled for this? Oh, I do hope so! Ah, the trophy room will be the last place they'll go in Hogwarts as proper students if that happens…"

Exiting the warmth of the armchair as discreetly as possible, Arthur made his way back to the boys' dormitory when:

"Hey, you with the blonde hair!"

Arthur froze. That was Malfoy. Turning around, he put on a fake questioning look. His heart was hammering and his mouth was dry; did Malfoy know Arthur was eavesdropping? But his fear faded away as Malfoy grinned; a genuine smile. No smirk or insult flying from his lips; a normal grin from an eleven-year-old child.

"You're Kirkland, right? Are you off to bed already?"

Arthur blinked, and nodded. That was not the questions he was expecting. Malfoy nodded back, acknowledging his answer. "Well, have a good sleep then," he called, grey eyes regarding Arthur. The blonde barely choked out a similar reply before exiting the common room.

Once back in the voluminous folds of his blankets and in his nightclothes, Arthur stared at the bump in the darkness that was Sebastian.

'_Midnight in the trophy room, huh?_ ' Arthur thought. The logical part of his brain was screaming protest at his consideration of a midnight endeavour, but the memory of the encounter with Potter somehow drowned that out. Arthur felt like… he owed something to the black-haired boy… no… not owed. Perhaps, Arthur felt like this was the right thing to do.

Arthur nearly snorted out loud at the thought. _''The right thing to do?' Now really Arthur, you're in Slytherin for a reason,' _his mind half-scolded, half-laughed at him. Humming his agreement, Arthur prepared to go to sleep.

Or at least he tried to.

The action of him getting up at half past eleven definitely contradicted his snarky self-comments. Changing back into his school robes yet again, Arthur made his way over to Sebastian's bedside. Putting a hand on top of the bundle of warmth, Arthur shook Sebastian awake.

"Hey, wake up. We need to tell Potter and Weasley something… quick."

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**Author's ~After~ Note: **** Ah, that was quite a short chapter, but the next will probably be up quick! If you're following this series with the official "Harry Potter and** **the Philosopher's Stone" book (recommended) then you might know what's going to happen. But~ as this is a Hetalia crossover, there might be a few tweaks. Hehe, look forward to the next chapter! Bye for now~**

**NOTE:  AGAIN PLEASE DO NOT POST YOUR PREDICTIONS VIA REVIEWS, because it's unfair for readers who still enjoy that moment of surprise. Thank you for being polite readers so far!**


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